


speed dial

by kasprina



Series: took a little time to make a little better [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: But also, Gen, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Jason Todd is So Done, Tim Drake is Red Robin, so suck on that canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasprina/pseuds/kasprina
Summary: "You've caught me at a really bad time, Red."Tim winced as gunshots came across the comm followed by grunts and the familiar sound of punching. "Yeah I figured."---Tim needs help. Jason's a little busy at the moment.This series has no specific reading order.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: took a little time to make a little better [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150145
Comments: 10
Kudos: 352





	speed dial

"'Yello?"

"Hey Red-"

"You've caught me at a really bad time, Red." 

Tim winced as gunshots came across the comm followed by grunts and the familiar sound of punching. "Yeah I figured. Look, I need–"

"Call Goldie." Jason grunted followed by the oddly satisfying sound of a gun being reloaded.

"Nightwing can't help–"

"The brat then. Or the bat." More punches and a scream that grew rapidly distant. 

"Hood–"

"Look kid." Jason sounded exasperated and breathless. His voice was hushed now, as if he were hiding. "I'm trying to be nice but I'm busy. I really don't want to eat lead because I'm gossiping–"

"Jay, shut _up_!" Tim exploded. Jason fell silent. "I got tangled up in something and need your help." Quite literally tangled up considering the contraption he was currently trapped in but he didn't need to distract Jason anymore than he already was. It was still quiet on Jason's end (aside from some distant shouts) but Tim could almost hear his brain working. 

_Please don't ask any questions, please don't–_

"Fine, but I'm walking and talking. What do you want?"

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment he'd expected Jason to cuss him out and close the channel. The punching started back up. "Do you know anything about a League trap that's made of–" Tim poked it again, "leather?"

"Yeah, it's like a bag right?" There was a sharp crack followed by a breathless _whunf_ noise.

"Hood?"

"I'm here. Damn, 'Wing makes that look so easy. Batter up!” Hollow metal rang loudly then clattered as it was tossed aside. “Ok, leather bag. What about it?"

"How would one get out?"

"Out?" Jason repeated, firing with both guns now from the sound of it. "I mean that's the point Rob, you can't except for a seam at the top, hidden where it cinches 'cause they hang it in the air." 

Well that explained the vertigo-inducing swaying. 

"People are usually too freaked to find it, ‘specially once–" A loud grunt, “–it goes underwater.”

No wonder he hadn't seen it. Tim freed a hidden batarang from his suit and began carefully slicing the threads. He also gave himself a mental pat on the back for having the foresight to hide one. With his bandoliers, utility belt, and cape gone, and his domino on the fritz, he didn't have much equipment left. 

The last stitch broke and suddenly Tim was falling. Is this what eggs felt like when they were cracked open? But he didn’t hit the ground. Instead he crashed into hard metal bars. Another cage.

“You still there Rob?” Jason panted between dull thuds.

“Yeah,” Tim groaned, holding his side. God, his head was swimming now. Something was definitely in his system, hooray! “I’m here. Next question. Know anything about a–” Tim scrutinized the cage. Great. Four locks, bars too tight to squeeze through and a vat of something unpleasant below it. A shudder ran through the cage and suddenly he was an inch closer to vat.

_“Red.”_

“A cage with a bunch of locks?” Tim finally finished.

“Four of them? It’s not about the locks. There’s a puzzle to it that opens them. Little hidden switches and things. Big pain in the ass. They–” Gunshots. A grunt followed by a rush of wind and loud thud. “Hah. Eat _that_ Boy Wonder. Anyway, League plays mind games with it. Drug ‘em up, shove them in and let them panic over trying to solve it with zero motor skills.”

Huh. This was turning into a very fitting trap for him. Tim couldn’t help his misplaced admiration.

“Phew, these dealers were packing! Now that I’m done kicking ass, why the hell are you asking about League –” Jason broke off. Let out a soft huff. Then, in an incredulous voice said, “Holy shit Replacement.”

“Yeah. You figured it out Sherlock.” Tim muttered, feeling around the cage for anything that Jason mentioned. “What else do you remember about it?”

“You should be able to solve this puzzle with your eyes closed, why are you asking me? How hurt are you?” He was moving now, steel-toed boots echoing on metal.

“Uh...kinda hurt? The usual blunt force trauma, ribs and such.” It was hard to keep his voice casual as the cage dropped another inch and the throbbing in his head kicked up a notch. “Maybe some kind of toxin that’s slowly working through me?”

“Fuck, _Tim_.” Now Jason was running. “I’m on my way. Do you know where you are?”

“Old-Building Street off of Above-A-Big-Vat Avenue. My tracker should still be active. Hopefully.”

The roar of a motorcycle filled the comm. “Why didn’t you call someone earlier?”

“Thought I could get out of this on my own.” Wow, he sounded like a pitiful child. “Then I thought you could help since you trained with them.”

“So did the demon. So did B.” Jason growled. “Why didn’t you call them?”

"B is off planet, along with mini B-"

"Since _when_? I was literally just there this morning!"

"Last minute JL stuff this evening. And Wing is in 'Haven." Jason muttered something under his breath. "Anyway, I figured you might actually enjoy hearing me melt in acid." Tim quipped, hoping the dark humor would be appreciated. Jason just growled, barely audible over the engine. Maybe his brother wouldn’t appreciate the other jokes Tim had lined up, especially the one about the League finally finishing him off for Jason.

"Check the upper corners of the cage." The older man finally snapped after a moment. And Tim did, fingers scrabbling as fast as he could. There, a tiny switch that triggered another one. 

"Well something is happening now." He said. "Also feeling very lightheaded and tingly but not good tingly."

"Do as much as you can." Jason urged in a tight voice. "I'm almost there."

"I've got about a foot of space left before I’m taking a bath." 

"Keep working." 

And Tim tried, he really did. But his ribs were hurting more and so was his knee and now he was seeing double. Taking shallow breaths, Tim slumped in the corner. "Hey, make me a promise."

"What?"

"I want my headstone to say _'He died as he lived; Confused.'_. Got it?"

"Fuck, you’re really something Timmers." He could picture Jason shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well it can't say something stupid like 'nerd got served by ninja puzzle'." He was slurring now and couldn't help it. The sound of the engine disappeared and his heart clenched. "Jay? Are you still there? Please be there." 

"I'm here." Jason panted. "Hang on. You're gonna be fine."

"'Course I am." Tim curled in on himself as the cage shuddered again. "Robin’s here to save me." As the numbness finally spread to the last of his extremities, sucking his mind under, Tim could hear a slam of metal and what sounded like his name. 

***

So.

Apparently vats of mysterious liquid are soft. And if this is what melting alive felt like, maybe it wasn't that bad. He shifted and let out a sharp breath. Except his ribs hurt still. That was bad.

"Tim? You awake buddy?" He cautiously opened one eye to see Dick sitting on the edge of the bed. _His_ bed, not a vat of liquid death. As far as pleasant surprises went, this was a pretty good one. "Hey Timbit.” Dick’s face lit up with a warm smile. “How're you feeling?"

"Ribs." He grunted as Dick held out water for him.

"You cracked a few so that's going to be sore for a bit. How's your head?"

"Throbbing." 

"And that would be the poison." Dick said with a low chuckle. "You really had us worried."

Us. 

Tim looked to his left to see Jason slumped in an armchair, feet kicked up on his nightstand, asleep. His hair was still a wild mess from the helmet, a bruise was darkening on his jaw, and there were hastily bandaged cuts on his thigh and bicep. He was still wearing his dirt-smeared cargo pants but had traded his body armour for a Gotham Knights baseball hoodie.

(It was the one Tim had gotten him for Christmas after stealing his because it was Literally The Best oversized hoodie on Earth and Jason had left it at the manor when he moved so it was free game. And because being a little shit was required in this family, he’d bought the new one a size too big so now they really matched.)

"Alfred and I tried to get him to go sleep, especially after I got here but he refused." With a small sigh, Dick ran a hand through Tim's hair. "I know you’re seventeen and have your own mask now but don't do that again. For you big brothers' sakes. And little brother’s. And Bruce's."

"Wait, you told-" 

"Hell yeah we told B." Jason interjected. His voice was gravelly with sleep and he stretched like a cat in the chair. "He and Damian will probably be back soon. He always needs to brood at his sons’ bedsides."

"But the mission-"

"You matter more." Dick said, hand on Tim's shoulder now. "You know how dad is. Besides, Batman in space? That's what the Lantern Corp is for." He patted his shoulder before standing. "I'm gonna help Alfie with breakfast."

And then it was just him and Jason in a heavy silence until at last Jason took a deep breath. 

"Look, I'm glad you called me last night. I know I didn't sound like it and I said some stuff and it’s not that I wasn't happy to help, I just…" Jason trailed off, staring at his hands, jaw working. Tim waited. "You called me Robin." He finally said in a low voice. "I'm not. Haven't been for years."

"You'll always be Robin to me." Tim said in an equally quiet voice. “Jase I...I wanted to be you when I put the mask on the first time. Maybe Dick is the golden boy to you but you were my Robin. And–” He hurried to add before Jason could tack on the usual disclaimers _(I’m the Robin who failed, who died, who couldn’t follow orders)_ , “You’re my brother. So sue me for having faith in you, even when you don’t have any in yourself.”

Jason watched him as he listened, teal eyes not giving anything away. Then he stood and Tim couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to bolt. Leap out a window into Alfred’s carefully pruned hedges to escape talking about Feelings?

“I’ll never understand why you’d want to be me,” Jason said as he carefully sat on the bed. “When I’d kill to have brains like yours. Even drugged you nearly finished that puzzle.” He patted Tim’s knee. “I’m truly honored and humbled that Red Robin decided to steal my color.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I picked it first, ass.” 

Jason grinned. Then, with careful and deliberate moves, he gathered Tim into a hug. Tim returned it immediately. His hug was all limp arms barely squeezing but Jason’s firm grip made up for it.

“You can always call me, you know that, right?” Jason insisted. “I just proved I can kick ass and talk at the same time so don’t try to do that shit alone again, got it?”

“Yeah Jay,” Tim smiled into his brother’s shoulder. “I got it.”

**Author's Note:**

> A note on canon: I'm ignoring how Dick took Robin from Tim without warning. We're fixing that here and cleaning that slate because they are Good Brothers and you can pry that from my cold dead hands.
> 
> Inspired by dialogue prompt: "You've caught me at a really bad time."


End file.
